


One Day I'll Lose This Fight

by a_nonny_moose



Series: 100 Quote Prompts [25]
Category: Markiplier Egos
Genre: tw suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-22
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2019-01-04 04:28:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12161535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_nonny_moose/pseuds/a_nonny_moose
Summary: A vent fic: Dark is tired of it all. Set after Doc and Will leave him to his own devices.





	One Day I'll Lose This Fight

“Just because you saved my life doesn’t mean I _owe you_ anything!”  


Dark was well aware that he was effectively talking to himself, but at this point, he didn’t care. He ran a hand through his hair. Longer, now that Mark was growing it out. Annoying. 

Deep breaths. 

Dark’s other hand was clutched tight over his heart, black blood oozing steadily from between his fingers, staining his paler-than-usual skin. 

His aura circled him, swirling, snarling, the glint of red eyes amid the smoke. Hungry. 

“I didn’t _ask_ you to save me, either,” Dark snapped, starting to get to his feet, wincing.   


His aura formed a gust of wind, pushing at his back. The tiny, shadowed alley whistled with the force of it. Dark staggered upright, holding the wall for balance. 

“Stop that,” he scowled, wrapping his open shirt around him. “Get _away_.” He turned away from the writhing shadows. “I don’t need you.”

The aura looped itself around his shoulders, sliding tendrils and a comforting hum in his ear. It was heavy and warm. It was almost nice. 

Dark shook it off, knees nearly buckling with the effort. “Get away,” he mumbled again, weaker. 

The weight on his shoulders didn’t budge. If anything, the pressure shifted to hold him tighter, pressing Dark’s fingers into his chest where a knife had been stabbed through his heart. The waving smoke started to envelope him. 

Dark couldn’t hold his wound shut any longer. He dropped again, huddled against the wall, hands curled close to the hollow of his chest. It hurt. It hurt so much. Blood dribbled down to pool in his lap, staining the fabric of his jeans. 

He looked down, chest shaking and heaving with even the effort of breathing. His aura was tight around him, a invisible glove, ringing quietly in his ears. A comforting threat. 

 _Let me in,_ it seemed to say, tracing his wounds, his furrowed brow. _Everything will be all right._

“All I asked was for you to let me go,” Dark whispered, voice shaking with the strain. “All I asked was for you to let me fade.” He took a breath, shoulders sagging. and wished more than anything that his aura hadn’t whisked him away from the criminals before they’d finished their job. It would have been quick. 

The wind around his shoulders stilled for a moment, and the ringing picked up. _Let me save you._

“Get _away_ from me.” It took a momentous effort, but Dark pushed the cloud off of him. 

If nothing intervened… if no one helped him… 

He was stalling, hoping the aura would forget about the blood working its way to the back of his throat. 

His aura recoiled, hissing, across the narrow alley. The glow of red eyes, the glint of bared fangs from within. The look of a predator, hungry for so long, and so close to weakened prey– she wasn’t about to lose. 

And still Dark staved the cloud off, teeth gritted, inviting the pain that flashed hot through his chest. He was begging the cloud with every fiber of his being to wait, wait until it was too late. 

She advanced, out of the smoke, giant nose pushed up against his face, fur gleaming in the low light. Dark held his breath, waiting. A moment more. 

A snort, and the giant dog bared her fangs an inch from his own. He was almost gone, and she could feel it– but she hadn’t hunted him, weakened him, known him this long, just to be fooled. She would have her prey, and have her power. 

All he had to do was let his guard down. 

Dark felt the shift, something in his chest seizing. A tiny glimmer of triumph flared in him. A tiny light. He lifted one bloodied, blackened hand to the giant dog’s muzzle. Even now, his fingers were near-transparent. 

“Sorry,” he managed, baring his teeth in a last push of bravado. “You didn’t save me after all.”

She saw it the moment it happened, saw Dark’s face flash between fear, then pain, then a strange kind of peace. She saw the light behind his eyes flicker and finally, finally, go out. 

The hands curled against his lap went stiff, clenching, and then relaxed a final time. Blood dripped down Dark’s chest, staining his lap, his fingers, trailing down his chest. He breathed, blood flecking his lips, and his shoulders went limp against the brick wall. He was slowly fading to the color of ash, only the outline of a person. 

A puckered wound over his heart, black blood oozing out in a trail down his torso, and Dark was prone in the alleyway. Dead. Peaceful.

For all of a moment. 

The giant hound disappeared, turning back into smoke with a triumphant wave of her tail. The aura held itself still, quivering, almost silver in the air. 

A cry of triumph. 

Little by little, the aura drained herself into Dark, wrapping him in smoke. Wispy, the miasma poured into the hole in his chest as if to fill him up from the outside in. Slowly, steadily, Dark turned solid again. 

Slowly, smoothly, he opened his eyes. 


End file.
